Facing the room full of doubtful looks, Du An remained calm. "Today really was the first time I've ever had systematic football training."
His words set off another wave of chatter in the locker room.
"Good God! Du An, you must have something incredible up your sleeve!"
"Whoa, I've never seen anything like this before."
Many of them quickly caught on. Anyone Heighway was willing to make an exception for—skipping straight into the U16 squad even as a complete beginner—could never be ordinary.
"Fair enough. Whatever your background, once you're at Kirkby, you're one of us."
"Welcome to the U16s, Du An."
Seeing his chance, Connor struck while the iron was hot, introducing Du An to their teammates one by one to help him settle in.
"This is John Flanagan..."
"Over here is Adam Pepper..."
"...and Martin Hansen, our goalkeeper..."
Each player called out raised a hand with a friendly smile to greet him.
A few, however, only offered a lukewarm grunt, hardly showing any enthusiasm.
Once the introductions were done, Connor led Du An to one side of the locker room and found an empty locker for him to store his personal things.
Du An neatly arranged his training bag and football boots inside.
Glancing across the aisle, he noticed the boy sitting diagonally opposite him.
Connor had introduced him as James Griffiths. Right now, he was looking down, unwrapping the bandage around his ankle. His movements were slow, his teeth clenched tight against the pain.
Beneath the wrapping, his ankle was badly swollen, covered in huge patches of purplish-blue bruising.
It was the first time Du An had come face-to-face with the physical toll of football at such close range.
The visual shock was visceral.
He stared for a moment, momentarily frozen.
Sensing the gaze, Griffiths looked up, his eyes unfriendly. "What are you looking at? Don't get curious. You'll be like this sooner or later too."
Du An looked away without saying a word.
Growing up navigating schoolyard rough-and-tumble and enduring years of isolation had long taught him the unwritten rules of group dynamics.
A youth academy might look like a team fighting side by side, but beneath the surface, competition lurked everywhere.
A squad only fielded eleven starters. Spots for each position on the pitch were fixed. If someone took a place, there was no room for you.
That rivalry was rarely out in the open.
Du An had never harbored an obsession with fitting into any crowd, nor would he go out of his way to flatter anyone.
He had his own rule for navigating the world: act like a mirror. If others treated him with kindness, he would respond with sincerity; if someone provoked or targeted him, he was ready to see it through to the end.
He quickly put the brief locker-room incident out of his mind.
A moment later, Connor finished gathering his things, came over, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't just stand there. Go grab a shower. We've got academic classes this afternoon."
Du An nodded, took his clothes, and walked into the shower room.
Steam hung thick in the air.
The shower room echoed with banter among teammates. The topics had almost nothing to do with football; it was all the usual teenage chatter.
Some discussed weekend plans; some complained about girl trouble, grumbling that their girlfriends thought they were hopeless and wanted to break up; others boasted about taking another girl's virginity.
"That's only your fourth. You can't compare to Ryan—he's lost count himself."
The smug boast drew a burst of raucous laughter.
Du An stood under the hot water, letting the warmth wash over his body.
In silence, he replayed the morning's events.
From the moment he arrived at Kirkby that morning, in just half a day, his life had completely transformed.
After showering, the two headed to the canteen together.
The tables were set with the academy's specialized training meals. The food wasn't particularly delicious—bland and plain—but it was far healthier than the fish and chips sold all over Liverpool's streets.
That afternoon, Du An followed his teammates to the local school, only a five-minute walk from Kirkby.
During class, Du An habitually took a seat in the farthest corner of the classroom. Many of the others weren't listening at all; reading novels and whispering quietly were common sights, but the teachers didn't bother to intervene.
Once the afternoon academic lessons ended, Kirkby's squads had their free time.
Boys from every age group were lively and noisy.
Du An was alone.
He made no deliberate effort to mingle. Instead, he quietly found an empty patch of ground and repeated basic drills over and over—juggling, flicking, and touching the ball with his instep.
These were all exercises Heighway had told him would improve his touch.
He needed to use every spare moment to sharpen his ball control and master the fundamentals as quickly as possible.
Liverpool's skies were perpetually gray.
Overcast clouds hung over Kirkby year-round, and the wind blew across the pitches day after day.
It felt as though the passage of time left no trace here.
Buried in repetitive, monotonous training, Du An lost track of the days. The only thing he could clearly perceive was his football skills growing day by day.
His progress was astonishingly fast!
It often left him wondering whether his superhuman adaptability and absurd talent for learning came from his own hidden potential, or if they were the effect of the three mysterious beads.
Yet the change was undeniable.
In just a few short days, the football grew obedient at his feet. Touching, trapping, passing, and dribbling flowed smoothly, feeling more natural with every touch.
Time slipped quietly by.
Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.
Every Monday morning, Du An arrived punctually at Kirkby for closed training, leaving school to head home on Friday afternoons.
When they met over the weekend, Ethan bombarded him with questions about everything at Kirkby.
Ethan was endlessly curious about it all.
He knew his own playing career was over before it had even begun, but he could live vicariously through Du An.
The two brothers also went to the hospital to visit Grandma Mason. The elderly woman still lay motionless in her bed, showing not the slightest sign of waking.
The doctors' prognosis remained unchanged: given her advanced age, she would most likely never wake up.
Faced with this hopeless vigil, Du An appeared remarkably calm. Instead, he kept reassuring Ethan that everything would turn out all right.
During this time, Dalglish also visited Kirkby several times.
After all, he was Du An's legal guardian.
Every time the Liverpool legend saw him, he gave a smiling thumbs-up, saying Heighway had been singing his praises to him.
As September drew to a close, Kirkby's youth wages were distributed on schedule.
When Du An held his £110 wage in his hands, he felt football's rewards for the first time.
This was the harvest of his relentless day-and-night training, of seizing his opportunity with everything he had!
On the very day he collected his pay, Heighway pulled him aside to officially announce a new arrangement.
"Get ready, son."
"Starting next week, you'll be joining the U16 squad full-time. You'll take part in all team training sessions and play in internal scrimmages. I'm going to settle on your position on the pitch."
"Your professional journey has officially begun!"
Chapter 16